


A Massage

by Josselin, Mishima



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-27 00:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7595659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josselin/pseuds/Josselin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mishima/pseuds/Mishima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Pallas gives Nikandros a massage that turns into a little bit more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Massage

Nikandros was tired.

He was approaching thirty, and he was responsible for the duties of both the kyroi of Delpha as well as the kyroi of Ios, and Damen depended on him as his chief advisor. It left little time for relaxation or pleasure.

The drills had been grueling, that day, and afterwards, Nikandros rested, sitting on one of the benches of the training arena. He rubbed his forehead and took a deep breath in and another out, exhaling. 

The other men were leaving the arena, dispersing to whatever leisure activities filled their evenings. Some were probably going down to the taverns in the village, some to drink or play cards in the barracks. 

The arena emptied. Nikandros lowered his hand from his forehead and thought about retreating to his own chambers in the palace. His position at least afforded him chambers in the same wing as Damen’s own, but it was a walk from the practice arena.

One of the soldiers was lingering after the workout. Nikandros focused on where he was standing a few steps away from Nikandros. It was Pallas.

Pallas smiled when he saw Nikandros look at him and walked toward him. Pallas came to halt next to where Nikandros was sitting. 

“Captain,” Pallas said. “You look tired. Are you all right?”

Nikandros sighed. “I am fine, Pallas. You’re dismissed.”

Pallas didn’t leave. He circled Nikandros’s bench and and came to stand behind Nikandros. Pallas rested his hands on Nikandros’s shoulders. His hands were warm. He patted Nikandros’s shoulders gently, first, a sign of comfort from a friend, but then, when Nikandros expected him to walk away, he firmed his grip and pressed his thumbs into the muscle. 

Nikandros felt himself tense, first, at the unexpectedness the touch.

“Relax, Captain,” Pallas encouraged, and Nikandros deliberately took Pallas’s advice, loosening his shoulders and permitting Pallas to knead the muscles. 

Nikandros dropped his head and rolled his shoulder. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on Pallas’s touch. Pallas’s hands were steadily working his bare shoulder, the movements similar to the massages the Akielon slaves were famous for, but better. 

Pallas was very good at massage. He had oiled his hands from the bowl of olive oil that the wrestlers used. His hands were strong, stronger than the slaves that Nikandros had had serve him in the past. His movements were confident and seemed to unerringly find the knot that lingered right behind Nikandros’s shoulder blade. 

Pallas worked first on the top of Nikandros’s shoulders, and then worked into the shoulder blades a bit further down his back, and then up again, his hands resting warmly on the back of Nikandros’s neck.

Nikandros groaned helplessly at how good it felt.

Pallas chuckled good naturedly. “You are too tense, Captain.”

Pallas leaned in to his back and let his hands move further down Nikandros’s chest. When Pallas spoke again, his voice was quieter, but closer to Nikandros’s ear.

“When was the last time you had sex, Captain?”

Nikandros closed his eyes. Pallas ran his hands over Nikandros’s chest. “I don’t even remember,” Nikandros said honestly. “There was a slave?” 

Pallas’s voice was now very close to Nikandros’s ear. “Your body thinks that it has been too long.”

Pallas’s gaze was on his lap, and Nikandros was embarrassed to realize that Pallas’s massage had caused him to become aroused. 

“I’m sorry--” Nikandros started.

“I could,” said Pallas, leaning in a bit closer. 

Nikandros had his mouth half open. “That’s not necessary, Pallas.”

Pallas’s hands were warm on his neck. “We could go back to my room? You could lie down and I could work out this knot in your lower back?”

Nikandros could recognize that Pallas was attempting an invitation for something more than simply a continuation of the massage, but his hands on Nikandros’s shoulders were so good that it was hard to say no.

Still, Nikandros hesitated.

When he failed to answer, Pallas circled the bench and stood in front of him, his hands never leaving Nikandros’s shoulders.

“Captain?” Pallas’s eyes sparked. The smile on his lips small, but enough to flash Nikandros the impression Pallas’s dimples.

Pallas’s hands traveled from Nikandros’s shoulder all the way down to his hands. Pallas held them, urging Nikandros to stand.

“Lazar?” Nikandros asked.

“He’s on duty,” Pallas’s smile grew and his dimples deepened, “and he doesn’t mind.”

Nikandros stared at Pallas’s face. He considered the implications of accepting Pallas’s offer. He thought about the last time he had been with a slave. He had been so distracted by Damen’s disappearance and reappearance and the coronation and surrounding business of the kingdom that it had been too long for him to properly remember. He thought about Pallas’s hands on his skin, firm and warm when they touched his shoulder, the way Pallas’s fingers pressed against his flesh and the groans that had shamelessly escaped Nikandros’s mouth. He thought about Lazar, who didn’t mind.

Nikandros took one last breath and stood.

 

Pallas’s chambers were slightly larger than a typical room in the barracks by virtue of Pallas’s noble birth. Pallas shed his sandals at the door. 

“Take off your clothes, Captain,” Pallas said, managing to sound like he was making an encouraging suggestion rather than issuing an order to his superior. Pallas stripped himself, as well.

Nikandros found himself stretched out on the bed on his stomach, Pallas leaning over him in a continuation of the excellent massage. Pallas used his weight and the strength of his upper body to knead the muscles of Nikandros’s back and thighs. Pallas’s erection brushed against Nikandros’s ass occasionally as he moved. Nikandros himself was hard, his erection pressed against the bedding.

Nikandros was tempted to ask Pallas to fuck him. He was relaxed in the way where he enjoyed being taken. It would be pleasurable, he thought. He could stay pressed against the bedding and feel Pallas’s strength against his back. 

Nikandros was his superior in rank, though, and it wasn’t done for the higher ranked man to be taken in that manner. Pallas’s father was a minor lord, if Nikandros remembered correctly, and Pallas was only his youngest son. It wasn’t a position that approached equality with the kyroi of Ios.

Nikandros had a moment of wishing vaguely that Pallas outranked him and he could ask Pallas to fuck him, and then to wish that he were present with someone who did outrank him instead of Pallas. Then he realized that with his new title as kyroi of Ios, the only person who out ranked him was the king. He considered the idea that if he ever wanted to be fucked again, he had to tempt Damen back to his bed. He supposed it was true that the Veretian king could also be considered to outrank him, but the idea of Laurent fucking him--he did not spend a great deal of time on it.

Damen was unlikely to be as talented at massage as Pallas, however, and Nikandros returned his thoughts to appreciation. He groaned helplessly as Pallas worked out a particularly stubborn knot in his shoulder, and Pallas made an encouraging noise, so Nikandros continued to let his appreciation be expressed verbally. 

“You are kneading me like a baker kneads a bread dough,” Nikandros said, and Pallas chuckled, and turned his attention to Nikandros’s ass, kneading it with the kind of exaggerated flourish Nikandros could picture a flamboyant baker using in the market.

After Pallas had slowly completed his entire backside, Pallas leaned back. “Turn over,” Pallas said, again managing to sound like he was making a suggestion rather than giving his superior an order.

Nikandros hesitated. “So I can do your front,” said Pallas, seeming earnest.

Nikandros rolled over on the bed. On his back, his arousal was more obvious. Pallas didn’t even seem to acknowledge it, moving down to Nikandros’s feet and working upward, kneading out the tense muscles of the thigh. Nikandros felt as though he should be more appreciative to Pallas. “You are very good at this,” he managed.

“Thank you,” Pallas said with the small pleased expression he sometimes wore when he had won an honor on the field.

Pallas continued up Nikandros’s front. He worked for long moments on the tissue that connected hip and thigh. Nikandros had never before thought about that portion of his body specifically, and now it seemed he could think of nothing else, of the pressure and sensuality of Pallas’s hands, so close to his arousal and yet not even brushing it.

Pallas paused for a moment. One of his hands rested warm on Nikandros’s hip. When Nikandros blinked his eyes open, he could see that Pallas’s other hand was extended to Nikandros’s erection, reaching for it, waiting. Pallas was also aroused.

“Can I--” said Pallas.

“Please,” Nikandros bit out, far past any type of restraint. 

Pallas’s hand grasped his erection. His hands were coated in the oil he’d been using for the massage, and the strokes had the same firm confidence that Pallas had applied to the rest of his body.

Nikandros groaned at the pressure, feeling that he was quite close to finishing despite Pallas only having just started to touch him. His hips bucked slightly into Pallas’s hand.

Pallas’s gaze was focused on where his hands were working. “I would like to ride you,” Pallas offered.

Nikandros took in a deep breath. He was not certain he could last that long, and he was quite sure he was too relaxed to be much use in fucking Pallas as vigorously as he was sure the young athlete preferred.

Pallas seemed to read Nikandros’s intention in his face. “I will do all of the work,” Pallas said, before Nikandros could organize his tongue to respond, Pallas had straddled Nikandros and was reaching one hand behind himself to position Nikandros’s cock as he sank down upon it.

Nikandros closed his eyes and concentrated on anything but the warm clasp of Pallas’s body in an effort at not finishing.

Pallas made a pleased noise as he managed to take all of Nikandros within him in a single stroke. Nikandros was impressed at Pallas’s ability to take it so smoothly. Nikandros wasn’t as large as Damen, for example, but he was large enough to be gentle with his partners and to ease them into the whole length. Pallas did not need any gentleness, and nor did he need encouragement. Having settled his ass against Nikandros’s hips with a pleased sigh, he began using his thighs to raise and lower himself, keeping his promise to do all of the work. 

Nikandros watched Pallas’s body for a moment as Pallas rode him. He marveled at the strength of how Pallas moved, and then was struck with an errant thought that the workout he had given the men in the arena was apparently insufficient if Pallas was left with enough energy for this. Or perhaps Pallas trained in this fashion every night, how was Nikandros to know. He was still not even certain why he was here now.

Nikandros could not stop his hips from bucking again, pushing up into Pallas a tiny bit deeper, and Pallas made another pleased sound as he did so. 

Pallas seemed to be one of those men who babbled while he was being fucked. As he started to ride Nikandros he began a stream of nonsense words of appreciation, telling Nikandros how good he felt, how much he liked feeling Nikandros inside him. Nikandros wondered if Pallas always said the same things while he was being fucked, regardless of his partner, but then Pallas burst out with an embarrassing, “Oh, Captain, yes, right there--” that indicated he was well aware of who he was with. 

Nikandros had been exhausted when Pallas had first approached him, and Pallas’s massage had first relaxed him to the point of being ready to fall asleep, and then aroused him until sleep was far from his mind. But all of this had not had a beneficial effect on his stamina. He did not think he was going to be able to last long, and he did not want to disappoint Pallas after Pallas had gone to such lengths to please him.

Nikandros reached for Pallas’s erection, which Pallas had cupped loosely in one of his own oiled hands. Nikandros tangled his fingers with Pallas’s own and felt the oil spread on to his own hand. He tightened his grip around Pallas and heard Pallas whimper in response. He held his hand still so that when Pallas rose he was fucking into their grip and when Pallas lowered himself he was moving slightly out of it.

“I am close,” Nikandros warned Pallas. 

“Oh--” said Pallas, his eyelashes fluttering slightly as he tipped his head back. “I am--” and Nikandros assumed Pallas had been going to say that he was close also, before he demonstrated it instead.

Pallas paused in riding him, trembling through his own orgasm, and Nikandros bit his lip to keep from demanding that Pallas keep going and help him finish. He did not need to restrain himself for more than a moment, though, because after Pallas had used his hand to milk his spendings onto Nikandros’s chest, he used his hands to spread them into NIkandros’s skin like that were nothing more than part of his earlier massage.

Then Pallas demonstrated impressive muscle control by doing something that tightened his body inside, and Nikandros himself finished with a cry. Pallas arched his back and did whatever it was that squeezed his ass again, easing Nikandros through his orgasm before Pallas relaxed forward to stretch out on the bed half-on and half-next to Nikandros.

Nikandros closed his eyes. He could feel his own chest moving quickly as he caught his breath, and the warm pressure of Pallas’s body next to him. Pallas’s breath was slowing also. This had been nice, Nikandros thought. He did not really have time to woo a lover, but he should make more time for sex, he told himself. Some of the former slaves had established themselves in positions where they were paid for sex and pleasure something like pets were in Vere, perhaps Nikandros could work out a mutually beneficial arrangement. 

Nikandros’s thoughts were interrupted by Pallas’s voice. “I liked that.” 

Nikandros laughed slightly. “I did too,” he agreed. “Thank you.”

Pallas sounded a tiny bit smug as he replied. “Perhaps next time you are tired you will think of me.”

That was an invitation that would be hard to resist, but it was also a reminder of Nikandros’s position and Pallas’s position and Pallas’s relationship with Lazar and all of the reasons why Nikandros had resisted this proposal in the first place. 

As though Nikandros’s thoughts of Lazar had summoned him, Nikandros suddenly heard the door to Pallas’s rooms opening. Nikandros tensed on the bed and Pallas patted his chest reassuringly.

Lazar came into the bedroom. Nikandros imagined the scene as Lazar must see it: the wreck of the bed, the bowl of oil Pallas had been using on his hands. Nikandros resting on the bed with his eyes now nervously wide open, Pallas sprawled half on top of him, clearly well fucked.

Lazar’s eyes widened as he took in the bed. “I see you managed to snare the Captain,” Lazar said. Lazar spoke Veretian, and it was a bit of a surprise to hear it after Nikandros and Pallas had been speaking Akielon all evening. Nikandros had an inappropriate flash of thought and he wondered of Pallas babbled in Veretian when Lazar was fucking him, or if he always returned to Akielon when he was so overcome.

Pallas nodded happily. “Lazar,” he said, greeting his partner. Lazar moved over to the side of the bed closest to Pallas and leaned in to kiss him briefly. Pallas raised his head obligingly to meet him. 

The kiss began as a simple one of greeting, the kind exchanged just to say hello. But it deepened. Nikandros couldn’t tell which of the pair drew it out, or perhaps they both had, in their own way. But even to an observer, the kiss clearly became one of intent. 

Nikandros was starting to feel awkward with the two of them leaning over him to kiss. He was wondering how to best make his excuses.

Lazar leaned back. Pallas strained after him for a moment before subsiding onto the bed.

“I see you warmed him up for me,” Lazar said, eyeing Nikandros.

“I should go,” Nikandros offered, trying to shift out from under Pallas.

“Stay,” Pallas encouraged. “You are all relaxed. And don’t you want to watch?” Pallas leaned in close to Nikandros’s ear, as though sharing a confidence. “Lazar likes fucking me when another man has had me first.”

Nikandros groaned, and he found himself weak to Pallas’s invitation, not for the first time that evening. He had wondered what language Pallas might call out in when Lazar fucked him, after all. Perhaps he could find out.

**Author's Note:**

> [reblog on tumblr!](http://josselinkohl.tumblr.com/post/148020346827/okay-thanks-everyone-for-the-great-guesses-on)


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